(no subject)
Shalom all! As I type this I'm in Disney World, and the entry which is to follow is a collection of random thoughts, musings, and baseless, merciless verbal abuses on the innocent that I will be writing each night over the week to come on my laptop.
Monday, May 16th, 2005: Today, I went to Disney World. Yay! That the trip from my house to Orlando--from the moment I woke up to the moment the plane landed--was shorter than the subsequent period between our arrival at Orlando and our arrival at our hotel room was pretty indicative of what I believe is to come. Olivia told me last night that Disney is truly evil, charging exorbitant prices for useless merchandise and mediocre food products, all under the banner of "Do it for the kids." At first, I was upset at her cynicism--no way, I thought. Disney World is fun! Now I see that she just forgot to include mention of the long lines that, when unwrapped, could very easily form a perimeter around the state of Delaware. But once we got settled in (approximately three days after the plane left), it was really quite nice. It was already about 2 PM by then, so there was really no point in spending a couple of hundred dollars on a half-day in the happiest place on Earth....fine, so there was. But my dad isn't made of money. He's just a doctor who's married to another doctor. So, we spent the day hanging out by the pool, chillaxing, swimming, just enjoying the beautiful day. Soon enough Bratty was in the pool, and then Dad, and then I entered the pool by going down the water slide head first and getting yelled at by the life guard, and the entire Solomon delegation to Disney World was having fun in the pool. At which point Dad and I promptly ordered Arielle to curl up into a fetal position, as spherical as we could get her, and began playing catch with her. Soon, we realized there might be some legal issues and whatnot...I think Social Services frowns upon throwing a seven year old girl back and forth in a pool. So we came up with some excuses and started playing basearielle (I hit a home run!). We figured the best one would simply be the truth. "Well, your honor, you see, my seven year old sister/daughter really enjoyed being tossed around for our amusement.......and besides, there was a sign with a bunch of pool rules, and not one of them said 'No throwing little children around'". Ah, a random thought....for those of you under the delusion that music in pop culture is on the decline today, please just refer yourself to Gwen Stefani's new hit, Hollaback Girl. "A few times I've been around that track/So it's not just gonna happen like that/Cuz I ain't no hollaback girl/I ain't no hollaback girl." Wow...The height of culture. You can just feel her pain, her frustration, the agony that she is suffering inside because she knows she ain't no hollaback girl, but everyone thinks she ai.
Tuesday, May 17th, 2005: "Look, there's another gift shop!". I believe my day has been effectively summarized.
Wednesday, May 18th, 2005: I went to Epcot today. It was indeed a fun day, I'll admit, going from ride to ride and touring all of the different countries. I think I can safely say that Disney makes learning fun for everyone. And yes, the rhyming Dr. Seuss tone was indeed intentional. The last stop was Mexico, and I've always been very fond of Spanish and Hispanic culture, from the language to the music to food to the gardening skills to the beautiful sights in their countries. And they did an amazing job there, too, they really did. You could definitely tell that they were taking a lot of strides and pains to make sure that your Epcot Mexico experience was the real deal--they even went so far as to hire actual Mexicans!! And you know that Mexicans are really a bitch to import; first you have to go to Mexico and find some, then smuggle them over the border, and then you have to make them think that U.S. minimum wage is about half of what it really is. It's a long, arduous process, and accordingly its very expensive, and I heartily commend Walt Disney World for taking that extra step.
Thursday, May 19th, 2005: Random Memory: I think it was with Nick and Heather that I went to the city and saw a homeless man begging for money. Now, being no real fan of the city's beggars--in a city like New York, they should be spending their time looking for work or getting an education, not asking for undeserved money--I gave him a penny. The guy started shouting at me incoherently and, with quite a force, threw the can's entire contents at me. Luckily, as it turned out, I was the only person thus far to have given him any change that day.
Friday, May 20th, 2005: I began reading my new book today, the classic Indian epic the Mahabharata. And it is, as I just said, a classic, and really very enjoyable to read, but at the same time it's also very, very strange. Apparently the mechanisms of love in that day were much simpler than they are today; observe the following, an example of courtship Mahabharata style, with two different endings that depend on the situation. Note that some basic speech gestures have been updated in according with modern popular linguistics:
"Dayum, you fine, woman."
"Oh, thank you. You're pretty hot yourself."
"Accept my love for you today!"
"OK."
~smoochy smoochy~
(Ending for when the male character is a king)
"Marry me!"
"OK."
~ride off on horses~
"Oh, look, you have delivered me a child, who conveniently is always male in this story. Let us give him a name with no less than two of each consonant that only Vishnu can pronounce."
"OK."
(Ending for when the male character is not a king, but actually a god in human form, which happens surprisingly often.)
"I deliver myself to you, fair man!"
"Sweet."
~sweet, passionate love-making~
~In background: Let's Get It On by smooth soul singer Marvin Gaye.~
~guy, who is actually a god, leaves girl never to see her again. This is the ancient Indian epic version of the modern inner-city teenage pregnancy.~
~one day and a very quick pregnancy later~
"Oh, look, you have delivered me a child, who conveniently is always male in this story. Let us give him a name with no less than two of each consonant that only Vishnu can pronounce."
~blank stare from the random bird he happens to be talking to, before realizing the woman is gone~
Saturday, May 21st, 2005: I'll begin this entry with some fatherly advice from my dad, something he told me today. "Son," he said, "I've always thought Donald Duck was an asshole." On that note, I move on to my day. We stopped today at Castaway Cay, a Bahamian island approximately the size of a small nation that Disney, in its infinite evil, owns. It was no different than any other island in the Bahamas, really, except for the line wrapping around the island to see Mickey (I gave him a hug!!). Later on, on the ship, I went to see the nightly show, a medley of Disney songs performed by various crew members with funny Indian accents. Approximately 10 minutes into the show, I had the major details of my suicide roughly plotted out. At this point, though, I realized this may not be the best option; simply put, too many people love me. I'm just adorable, I know. So instead I began contemplated the past 10-12 years of my life, in an effort to figure out exactly how I got to where I was then and just what I did to deserve it. I couldn't come up with an exact answer, but I figured it probably had something to do with the fact that underneath this thick, tough, manly exterior, I really just want to be loved. But again, I have no definitive answers. So after the play, I left the theatre, and began to walk around the ship a bit, looking at the various pictures on the walls. In this particular corridor, the pictures happened to be slides from Fantasia--or, as it is affectionately known by its many fans, Disney on Acid. I've never really been a big fan myself. I always thought it was way too trippy. Not good trippy--Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was good trippy. Movies that are "good trippy" leave you wishing you hadn't wasted away your acid stash before watching it. Movies that are "bad trippy"--Fantasia at the fore--leave you wishing your science teacher hadn't shown it to you because you were 9 years old and much too young to handle it.
And now, here I am, on Sunday night (well, Monday morning), back home, having seen the new Star Wars, and still feeling like I'm on a boat and the ground is shaking underneath me. I'm just going to go to sleep now.......shalom everybody!
Random Memory from my Childhood: When I was young, for a holiday I got an Illustrator giftset, that allowed me to write my own little book and illustrate it. When I came to the part where the set asked me to specify to whom the book was dedicated, I got sort of confused; I didn't understand the concept of book dedications. So, I asked my parents, and they explained that it was who the book was for. Well, they obviously worded that answer just right, because I thought to myself "Hey, I want to be able to read my own book!" and dedicated it to myself. And thus began a life of blatant egotism.
Monday, May 16th, 2005: Today, I went to Disney World. Yay! That the trip from my house to Orlando--from the moment I woke up to the moment the plane landed--was shorter than the subsequent period between our arrival at Orlando and our arrival at our hotel room was pretty indicative of what I believe is to come. Olivia told me last night that Disney is truly evil, charging exorbitant prices for useless merchandise and mediocre food products, all under the banner of "Do it for the kids." At first, I was upset at her cynicism--no way, I thought. Disney World is fun! Now I see that she just forgot to include mention of the long lines that, when unwrapped, could very easily form a perimeter around the state of Delaware. But once we got settled in (approximately three days after the plane left), it was really quite nice. It was already about 2 PM by then, so there was really no point in spending a couple of hundred dollars on a half-day in the happiest place on Earth....fine, so there was. But my dad isn't made of money. He's just a doctor who's married to another doctor. So, we spent the day hanging out by the pool, chillaxing, swimming, just enjoying the beautiful day. Soon enough Bratty was in the pool, and then Dad, and then I entered the pool by going down the water slide head first and getting yelled at by the life guard, and the entire Solomon delegation to Disney World was having fun in the pool. At which point Dad and I promptly ordered Arielle to curl up into a fetal position, as spherical as we could get her, and began playing catch with her. Soon, we realized there might be some legal issues and whatnot...I think Social Services frowns upon throwing a seven year old girl back and forth in a pool. So we came up with some excuses and started playing basearielle (I hit a home run!). We figured the best one would simply be the truth. "Well, your honor, you see, my seven year old sister/daughter really enjoyed being tossed around for our amusement.......and besides, there was a sign with a bunch of pool rules, and not one of them said 'No throwing little children around'". Ah, a random thought....for those of you under the delusion that music in pop culture is on the decline today, please just refer yourself to Gwen Stefani's new hit, Hollaback Girl. "A few times I've been around that track/So it's not just gonna happen like that/Cuz I ain't no hollaback girl/I ain't no hollaback girl." Wow...The height of culture. You can just feel her pain, her frustration, the agony that she is suffering inside because she knows she ain't no hollaback girl, but everyone thinks she ai.
Tuesday, May 17th, 2005: "Look, there's another gift shop!". I believe my day has been effectively summarized.
Wednesday, May 18th, 2005: I went to Epcot today. It was indeed a fun day, I'll admit, going from ride to ride and touring all of the different countries. I think I can safely say that Disney makes learning fun for everyone. And yes, the rhyming Dr. Seuss tone was indeed intentional. The last stop was Mexico, and I've always been very fond of Spanish and Hispanic culture, from the language to the music to food to the gardening skills to the beautiful sights in their countries. And they did an amazing job there, too, they really did. You could definitely tell that they were taking a lot of strides and pains to make sure that your Epcot Mexico experience was the real deal--they even went so far as to hire actual Mexicans!! And you know that Mexicans are really a bitch to import; first you have to go to Mexico and find some, then smuggle them over the border, and then you have to make them think that U.S. minimum wage is about half of what it really is. It's a long, arduous process, and accordingly its very expensive, and I heartily commend Walt Disney World for taking that extra step.
Thursday, May 19th, 2005: Random Memory: I think it was with Nick and Heather that I went to the city and saw a homeless man begging for money. Now, being no real fan of the city's beggars--in a city like New York, they should be spending their time looking for work or getting an education, not asking for undeserved money--I gave him a penny. The guy started shouting at me incoherently and, with quite a force, threw the can's entire contents at me. Luckily, as it turned out, I was the only person thus far to have given him any change that day.
Friday, May 20th, 2005: I began reading my new book today, the classic Indian epic the Mahabharata. And it is, as I just said, a classic, and really very enjoyable to read, but at the same time it's also very, very strange. Apparently the mechanisms of love in that day were much simpler than they are today; observe the following, an example of courtship Mahabharata style, with two different endings that depend on the situation. Note that some basic speech gestures have been updated in according with modern popular linguistics:
"Dayum, you fine, woman."
"Oh, thank you. You're pretty hot yourself."
"Accept my love for you today!"
"OK."
~smoochy smoochy~
(Ending for when the male character is a king)
"Marry me!"
"OK."
~ride off on horses~
"Oh, look, you have delivered me a child, who conveniently is always male in this story. Let us give him a name with no less than two of each consonant that only Vishnu can pronounce."
"OK."
(Ending for when the male character is not a king, but actually a god in human form, which happens surprisingly often.)
"I deliver myself to you, fair man!"
"Sweet."
~sweet, passionate love-making~
~In background: Let's Get It On by smooth soul singer Marvin Gaye.~
~guy, who is actually a god, leaves girl never to see her again. This is the ancient Indian epic version of the modern inner-city teenage pregnancy.~
~one day and a very quick pregnancy later~
"Oh, look, you have delivered me a child, who conveniently is always male in this story. Let us give him a name with no less than two of each consonant that only Vishnu can pronounce."
~blank stare from the random bird he happens to be talking to, before realizing the woman is gone~
Saturday, May 21st, 2005: I'll begin this entry with some fatherly advice from my dad, something he told me today. "Son," he said, "I've always thought Donald Duck was an asshole." On that note, I move on to my day. We stopped today at Castaway Cay, a Bahamian island approximately the size of a small nation that Disney, in its infinite evil, owns. It was no different than any other island in the Bahamas, really, except for the line wrapping around the island to see Mickey (I gave him a hug!!). Later on, on the ship, I went to see the nightly show, a medley of Disney songs performed by various crew members with funny Indian accents. Approximately 10 minutes into the show, I had the major details of my suicide roughly plotted out. At this point, though, I realized this may not be the best option; simply put, too many people love me. I'm just adorable, I know. So instead I began contemplated the past 10-12 years of my life, in an effort to figure out exactly how I got to where I was then and just what I did to deserve it. I couldn't come up with an exact answer, but I figured it probably had something to do with the fact that underneath this thick, tough, manly exterior, I really just want to be loved. But again, I have no definitive answers. So after the play, I left the theatre, and began to walk around the ship a bit, looking at the various pictures on the walls. In this particular corridor, the pictures happened to be slides from Fantasia--or, as it is affectionately known by its many fans, Disney on Acid. I've never really been a big fan myself. I always thought it was way too trippy. Not good trippy--Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was good trippy. Movies that are "good trippy" leave you wishing you hadn't wasted away your acid stash before watching it. Movies that are "bad trippy"--Fantasia at the fore--leave you wishing your science teacher hadn't shown it to you because you were 9 years old and much too young to handle it.
And now, here I am, on Sunday night (well, Monday morning), back home, having seen the new Star Wars, and still feeling like I'm on a boat and the ground is shaking underneath me. I'm just going to go to sleep now.......shalom everybody!
Random Memory from my Childhood: When I was young, for a holiday I got an Illustrator giftset, that allowed me to write my own little book and illustrate it. When I came to the part where the set asked me to specify to whom the book was dedicated, I got sort of confused; I didn't understand the concept of book dedications. So, I asked my parents, and they explained that it was who the book was for. Well, they obviously worded that answer just right, because I thought to myself "Hey, I want to be able to read my own book!" and dedicated it to myself. And thus began a life of blatant egotism.